


It Will Come Back

by foremmafrvrago



Category: Original Work, Vampire: The Masquerade
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon Non-Binary Character, Canon Queer Relationship, Character Turned Into Vampire, Fluff and Smut, Hozier References, Human/Vampire Relationship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I Wrote This While Listening to Hozier's Music, Inspired by a Hozier Song, Knifeplay, Nonbinary Character, Other, Queer Friendly, Queer Themes, Song: It Will Come Back (Hozier), Title from a Hozier Song, Vampire Bites, Vampire Sex, Vampire Turning, Vampires, Yearning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 01:40:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30098352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foremmafrvrago/pseuds/foremmafrvrago
Summary: A sexy non-binary vampire comes to your doorstep and asks if they can have dinner with you, wyd? This was originally a one-shot that I decided to expand. Nanette's world is forever changed when the vampire Nikola arrives on her doorstep. They learn more about each other as they grow closer, and choices have to be made about their future.
Relationships: Nanette/Nikola, OC/OC, Original Character & Original Character, Original Character(s)/Original Character(s), Vampire/Human - Relationship
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	It Will Come Back

The stranger arrived on Nanette’s doorstep at dusk, right before the sun was set to kiss the earth. The knock was barely loud enough to be heard over the clanging of pots and pans as she had just begun to prepare dinner. Nanette furrowed her brow, she was not expecting visitors at this hour. The sitting room had long since been cleaned, and she had changed into her house dress. It would be improper to receive a visitor without her corset on. Drawing a shawl over her dress, she opened the door only just enough to see, hiding her body behind the frame.

On the other side of the threshold stood a beautiful face atop a beautiful body. Broad shoulder blades stretched nearly the expanse of the door frame, and they stood several inches over her. What wasn’t covered by a black velvet cloak was a body carved from marble, muscle upon muscle, a workman’s arms. But the planes of the face were soft, feminine, inviting. Mostly. The eyes were unnerving, a brown so rich they were nearly black, and Nanette felt as if this person could see into her soul. 

She felt her stomach pinch. “Can I help you?” Her voice sounded wan to her own ears, she needed to eat dinner before she started to feel faint. 

The stranger smirked, amused by the almost-fearful tone of her voice. Their eyes were roving over what they could see of her; face, arm, collarbones. Lingered there, eyes going dark. 

“Greetings, madame.” The voice was low and husky, and yet had a singsong lilt to it. It washed over Nanette like a spring rain, causing her to shiver. “I was hoping you had space for a guest tonight.”

She blanched at the directness of the request. Her cottage was not suitable for guests, certainly not a complete stranger. She pushed herself further behind the door. “Apologies, mon ange, I was not prepared for visitors.”

The stranger tilted their head, eyes lighting up with a mischievousness that set her heart racing. “You think I am an angel?”

She lowered her gaze, lashes fluttering. “Apologies, I am unsure what to call you. Have I offended you?”

“Nonsense,” the stranger said, hand outstretched. Nanette hesitated only a breath before placing her hand in theirs. They brought her hand up to their mouth, eyes on her. “It would take more than a compliment to offend me.” Lips pressed onto skin, heat rushing to Nanette’s face. “Have I interrupted your evening meal?”

“I have only just started to cook,” she answered, drawing her hand back into the safety of her shawl. Somehow she felt colder. “Have you been traveling, monsieur - err, madame?”

“I would prefer mon ange, if you please. I have just returned from the city and am making my way through the countryside. It seems that I have not secured lodgings for the evening; would you take in a weary soul looking for a place to rest their bones?”

She hesitated. While not threatening, something felt off about the stranger; something that made Nanette feel as if she were a mouse and they, a cat. The stranger smiled like they knew.

Or perhaps she was being silly. “If you would only give me a moment to make myself presentable, I will let you in,” she finally said. Once the stranger nodded, she shut the door and hurried to her armoire. 

It was second nature to slip into a corset and tie herself in. She dug one of the nicer ones out from behind her coats, a glossy black piece with white flowers embroidered along the bodice. Atop her cream dress, she was the picture of a good hostess. She quickly undid the braid that was messily knotted down her back, fixing it into a crown atop her head. She might have pinched her cheeks to give herself a flush. She also might have harnessed a dagger under her skirt. Just in case.

Nanette returned to the threshold, opening the door for the stranger. “I don’t have enough for a feast, I hope I won’t leave you starving.”

“I doubt that,” the stranger murmured, still not crossing into the cottage. They eyed her expectantly.

“Is something wrong?”

“It is impolite to enter one’s home without an invitation, wouldn’t you say?”

That gave Nanette pause. Had she not been clear enough? This person had just traveled from the city, perhaps the customs were different from out here in the country.

“You have permission to enter my home.”

It was quiet, the change. It would have been unnoticeable were it not for the sudden chill that entered the room. Nanette felt her breath catch, and though it was colder now, she had the sudden feeling that she had descended into hell.

“What is on the menu tonight?” The stranger asked, stalking towards her. She took one involuntary step back before catching herself. She steeled her spine, forcing herself to not break eye contact. 

“I’ve prepared roasted chicken and a vegetable soup. It is a modest dinner, I hope it will be to your satisfaction.” 

Taking a seat at the aged wooden table, the stranger watched her with a beguiled gaze. “I’ve dined with kings and peasants, I’m sure this will be somewhere in the middle.” 

Nanette pondered who this person might be to have eaten with such a wide variety of company. Not nobility, then, if they chose to take dinner with peasants. But not unimportant, if they had a seat at a table with royalty. The duality piqued her curiosity.

She set a plate before them, doing them the courtesy of plating the larger pieces of game. She poured herself a glass of blood red wine, tilting the bottle towards the stranger as an offering. They shook their head, and so Nanette set the bottle down between them.

“Not much of a drinker, are you?”

“Not of wine.”

“Where in the city are you traveling from?”

“Paris. How do you find the country?”

“Quaint. What business did you have in the city?”

“Trading. Are you alone out here?”

“By choice, yes.”

She knew what this was; not a battle of words but an exchange of information to feel the other out. She had had plenty of conversations like this in her day, always a means to an end of understanding. What to do with that understanding, however, was up to the bearer of the information. They watched each other. She would not break first.

“A woman of your class would be eligible to go into society by now, yes?”

Nanette sipped her wine, satisfied that they’d stopped their little game first. “I’ve been eligible for several years now. I chose to skip the past few seasons and now I am nothing but a spinster.”

Bemused, they asked, “No men have come upon your doorstep with proposals? What security do you have out here alone in the country?”

“My father was a skilled merchant. He left me a generous fortune. I have what I need here, and I have no desire to parade myself like a show horse at society balls.”

“And what occupies your time in such a quiet countryside, ma chérie?”

“I read books, I bake pastries, I tend to my animals, I entertain company-”

“I thought you said you weren’t bothered out here.”

“I rarely am; old friends from my school days or distant relatives. No one who would be interested in me in that sort of way.”

“And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“What are you interested in?”

A test. An offer, perhaps, if played correctly. “Good company.”

“And what makes good company for you?” They smirked, every bit a cat playing with it’s food. 

Not wanting to be bested, Nanette sat forward on the table in such a way that she knew would flatter her figure. She continued swirling her wine. Not a mouse, then. “A verbal sparring partner. Someone who does not balk against resistance.”

She lightly brushed the toe of her shoe against their leg. Another test, another offer. It hit the mark. Their leg tensed, pressing back against her. 

“I do not balk.”

“I’m sure you don’t.”

Nanette pushed her plate aside as she finished her dinner. She pretended not to notice that the stranger had done anything except for eating. The food had been maneuvered around the plate to appear as if it had been picked at, but she couldn’t recall ever seeing the fork lift to their mouth. 

“You said you were in the city to trade? What goods do you trade? You carry no luggage.” True, the stranger had arrived with nothing but the clothes on their back. They had a cloak draped across the back of the chair, and it looked heavy enough to possibly carry goods inside the pockets.

“I trade experiences, ma chérie, not goods.”

“What sort of experiences?” She drained her wine.

“Would you like to find out?” They smirked.

Suppressing a scoff, she stood to clear the table. They merely continued to watch her, the eyes less of a predator watching prey, rather a peer regarding an equal.

She turned to wash the dishes, feigning casualty. “You never told me your name.”

“And you never told me yours.”

“My name is Nanette.”

It happened so fast. One moment, the stranger was seated at the table, the next they were right behind Nanette. She gasped, feeling their breath on the back of her neck. The ghost of a touch was at her hip, waiting for permission. She found herself leaning into the touch. At that given permission, the touch at her hip tightened, the other finding her neck.

“My name is Nikola,” they said in her ear.

“You weren’t hungry,” she stated, not quite sure what else to say.

“Delicious as your food looked, ma chérie, I was hungry for something even more decadent.”

The sound of those words sent another shiver through her, a rush of desire sent a wave of heat to her face. Abandon would feel so good, the promise of ecstasy on their lips. It would be so tempting to come undone in their arms. She was not afraid. She leaned her head back into the crook of their neck, exposing her own.

The voice that came out was not her own. “Then have a taste.”

Nikola pressed a soft kiss to her jugular, the kiss of rain to the earth before thunder and lighting erupt across the sky. She exhaled something akin to  _ please _ , the full word barely able to escape her before teeth sunk into waiting flesh.

Nanette saw stars dance across her vision. There was a quick flash of pain that quickly turned into pleasure as Nikola fed. She reached an arm up to grip Nikola’s shoulder, upper arm, anything to keep her from melting into a puddle on the floor. It was only their firm hands keeping her upright, holding her back to their chest. She was drowning, she was coming undone. It was luxurious to be completely at their mercy, servicing them in exchange for a moment of euphoria. 

It was over as quickly as it started. Then those firm hands were roving across her torso, hiking her skirt to trail her thighs….

The knife she’d hidden there came unsheathed, held up for her to see. 

“And what is this, darling? Was this for me to find?” Nikola pulled Nanette’s hair aside, trailing the tip of the knife across her neck, peppering little pin pricks as they went. And yet, she found that she wasn’t afraid. The touch thrilled her, and the teasing lilt in Nikola’s voice assured her that this, too, was just a part of their game. 

Faster than she should have been able to, Nanette grasped the knife and flipped around in Nikola’s arms, pressing the knife to their neck in turn. “No, mon ange, if this was meant for you to find, I would have set it before you as I did your dinner.”

Nikola smirked, pleasantly surprised to have been bested. “You are a spitfire, you are.” That firm hand trailed up to grasp her chin, rough enough to keep her in palace but not hard enough to hurt. “I like you.”

Tossing the knife aside, Nanette placed both hands on Nikola’s chest. She could feel the muscle underneath rising and falling with each breath. Nanette’s own blood still trickled down their chin. 

“Why did you come to my door tonight?”

“I wanted to see who lived here.”

“And what did you find?

“I find,” Nikola said, dipping to kiss the now-scarring wound, “That I don’t want to leave.”

“I have not asked you to leave.”

“No, you have not,” they sighed. “But I have duties to attend to in other parts of the country. But rest assured, darling. You should not have fed me.”

“And why is that?” She asked, pressing against them, needing to feel close.

Their eyes lit up. “Because now I will come back.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! i wrote this on a whim, my pool of readers liked it, so i decided to expand upon it. chapter 2 should be up soon-ish as i've written about half of it. i don't know how many chapters this will be, i guess we'll find out together. don't know how often i'll be able to upload, i'm just going to ride this high for now.


End file.
